Amanda, Nathan - Monday morning
Jan. 24th, 2005 10:12 amAfter his conversation with Alison, Nathan goes and talks to Amanda again. He finds one extremely nervous witch, and does what she needed him to do all along.
He wouldn't blame Amanda if she shut the door in his face when she saw who it was, if for no other reason than to keep him from infecting her with his nerves. She was nervous enough; he had sensed that from the third floor. Nathan sighed harshly, rubbing his hands over his face in a helpless nervous mannerism and then knocked on the door. There were things he couldn't do anything about, yes, but this wasn't one of them. Even if he screwed it up hopelessly, he had to try.
Amanda had been trying - unsuccessfully - to meditate, since she was going from mere 'nervous' to 'panic', and without his powers, Manuel couldn't take the edge off it. And she was being good and not going for the other usual method of taking a few swigs from the dusty vodka bottle stashed behind the bottom drawer of her desk. The knock on the door was a welcome distraction, truth be told - she bounced up from her position on the floor and opened it, frowning a little as she saw who it was. "Hey," she said with a sigh. "I'm still goin', Nate. I'm sorry, but 'm not changin' me mind."
She thought he was here to talk her out of it. Absurdly, what that provoked was laughter, exhausted laughter with only the faintest edge of hysteria to it. Amanda gazed up at him, her eyes widening a little, but before she could say anything, Nathan stepped in and caught her in a fierce hug, ignoring the squeak. "Gray hair," he said, his voice breaking as he held onto her tightly. "Lots and lots of gray hair… I'll have to start buying dye and charging you." Okay. Sounding a little more than slightly hysterical now. Something a little more productive, that was what was called for...
"I'll watch." His throat tried to close, but he forced the rest of the words out. "Up in the suite, maybe, so I can be by myself. But I'll watch. So you know I'm there, even if I'm not right there..." He squeezed his eyes shut, his breath catching in his chest. "I'm sorry," he whispered. "I'm so proud of you."
That was all she'd needed to hear - longed to hear, really. She knew he wouldn't have been able to go with her, knew it was too hard, and too dangerous, given his face had been all over the television for the past week... But she'd needed to know she was doing the right thing. So often she wasn't, and all she'd wanted to know was that he understood why. Ignoring the need for air and the sudden urge to burst into relieved tears, Amanda hugged him back every bit as tightly. "Thank you," she managed. "Thank you Nate, I don't wanna make you worry, but this is important an' I hope I make you proud, I really do. Owe you for all that grey hair, all that trouble..." Okay, Nathan wasn't the only one sounding borderline hysterical. "'M scared," she admitted in a small voice. "What if they laugh or somethin'? Or I get up there an' I forget what I'm s'posed t' say?"
"If they laugh..." He coughed to clear his throat, easing his grip on her a bit. Not too much, though. "If they laugh, look them right in the eyes and smile at them. Anyone who laughs wasn't there, Amanda. If you forget what you're going to say..." He laughed a little weakly. "One of my teachers at law school used to say that when it comes straight from the heart, it doesn't matter if it's improvised. As long as you have the passion to compensate."
"I'll try." She didn't look up at him quite yet, being busy trying to get her expression back under control. Damn, she'd have to re-do her make-up if she didn't want to look like a panda. "I've got t' be bleedin' mental t' be doin' this, Nate. I've never given a speech in me life. Fuck, I couldn't even spell the word when I came here. An' these are all uni types, an' they're all gunna be starin' at me." She gave a shaky laugh. "Think there's time for me t' do the invisibility spell an' do it that way?"
"You're going to be fine," he said hoarsely. He pulled back a bit, but only far enough so that he could take her face between his hands and make her look up at him. "This is hard, and scary, yeah, but it's nowhere near what you had to do that day. Or what you did at the art exhibit."
Fair enough. Except there hadn't been time to think then, she'd just reacted, done what needed to be done. But then again, this needed doing, too. "I'm usin' the TK spell," she said, taking a steadying breath. "T' show 'em. Strange said the magic'd be too confusin', an' that's what I'm best at, with what yer've been teachin' me an' all." It was a small tribute to him as well, but she didn't say that.
"It's a good choice," Nathan said with a weak smile. "Logical, and all..." He took a deep, shaky breath, his eyes going to the clock on the wall. "When do you have to leave?"
Her eyes followed his. "'Bout an hour," she said, the butterflies in her stomach staging another invasion wave as she realised time was indeed drawing on. "McCoy's drivin' those of us that're goin' in the van, an' Strange is meetin' us there." A brief affectionate smile crossed her face. "Manuel's comin' as well, even tho' he doesn't remember anythin' 'bout that day an' he isn't in HeliX yet. Said he wanted t' be my moral support."
"Do you want me to stay? Until it's time to head downstairs?" Nathan managed a very faint laugh. "Or if you need some alone-time, I can go..."
"Stay?" It came out even before Nathan had finished speaking, and she blushed a little at how desperate that sounded. "I've had enough alone-time. I'll be climbin' the walls if I don't have some distraction."
He nodded. "I could... I could teach you some of the voice exercises I learned in law school?" he offered awkwardly. "They're good for warming your voice up, if you've got to speak. I know you'll be on a mic, but..."
"Please. Every little bit helps, an' I'll be havin' t' fuck around with the accent any way so people get what I'm sayin'..." She gave him a mock-stern look. "You Yanks need more international telly."
"Wait'll you get a load of the exercises," Nathan bantered back a bit weakly. "These are not things you want to do in public, unless you want to make an idiot out of yourself..."
Amanda grinned wryly. "Well, if I'm gunna do it any way, might as well go the whole hog. Maybe I'll convince 'em mutants're too weird t' be scary?"
"We can live in hope," Nathan said with an edgy laugh, going over and
sitting down on her couch. Well, collapsing, really. He hadn't realized just how much energy this would take it. "I need a nap," he said, only half-jokingly.
"You always need a nap," she told him, curling up beside him and leaning her head on his shoulder. She knew he probably hadn't been sleeping lately - neither had she, really. "How's the baby doin'?" she asked, shamelessly using the guaranteed Happy Topic to distract him. "Moira gettin' any weird cravin's yet?"
"Anna - you remember Moira's cousin, right? - claimed when I talked to them last night that she was eating haggis and ice cream. At the same time." He sighed. "Wish she were here," he muttered wistfully. "But she can't leave Muir just yet." A hollow little laugh slipped out before he could stop it. "Not all that different from six months ago. She got pulled away to Iceland the day after, I remember..."
"Haggis is a weird cravin' all on its own," Amanda said, stroking his arm absently. The nerves needed an outlet and it was better than biting her nails down to the quick again. "Rom said somethin' 'bout Iceland. She said if I hadn't been so hurt, you'd have had t' tie me down, there was that much power involved. Figures, considerin' who it was." She patted his arm again. "She'll be back soon, an' then you can go an' do all that spoony cooin' an' cuddlin' that you old people aren't s'posed t' do an' shock all us kids."
"Seems like so long ago," Nathan said after a moment, almost distantly. "You did your 'been here for a year' post - it won't be long until I get to do mine."
"Mm-hmm." Amanda paused, thinking over that year, and then grinned, suddenly, wickedly - in that moment she looked a lot like Domino. "Gunna go for the makeover?" she asked, almost-innocently. "I could dye yer hair."
"I came by my gray hair honestly," Nathan said automatically, in almost the same tone he would have used with Dom. "I'll keep them, thanks. As for the makeover... I'm not awash with ideas here, trouble."
"I dunno, we could get you an earring, like Doug's..." she pointed out. "Yer'd look all dangerous an' secret agent-ly with an' earring an' that black leather jacket." The grin grew positively evil. "Or a tattoo. One of those Askani patterns you keep drawin' in the margins of me papers when me handwritin's been givin' you trouble."
"Moira would have a small heartattack," Nathan said, pondering the image. "I'm not the earring type. And tattoos are identifying marks... not that I don't have enough identifying scars, though, I suppose. Huh." He shook his head at her, smiling tiredly. "You've actually got me thinking about this, brat."
"No heart attacks for the pregnant lady," Amanda agreed. "An' that's what I'm here for, isn't it? T' distract you with scary body art ideas? Tho' I reckon the tattoo idea would be a good one. One of the Askani patterns, 'round yer arm maybe..." She ran her finger along his bicep, to illustrate. "Those have meanings, don't they? The patterns? They look like they ought, from a magic sense, any way."
"They do. I'd have to think about it." He chuckled very quietly. "And, you know, wait until I'm not black and blue all over. The bruises on my bruises have bruises, this week."
"Makes it kind of hard t' tell what'd look like," Amanda said, fingers tapping out a nervous tattoo on her thigh and her foot waggling. "I hate waitin'," she said abruptly. "Wish it was over an' done with already."
"This is the worst part," he reassured her softly. "Once you get there, it'll go by faster than you can imagine."
"Not if I stand there an' can't think of a thing t' say..." No, not going back to that train of thought, that way lead nerves and panicking and possible hiding. "Strange said he'd use magic, if anythin' happened. Out in front of every body an' all. 'S a big thing, for him - he's so far in the magic closet he's practically in Narnia."
"I think it's as important for him to be there, and be there for you," Nathan said, thinking about that conversation on Saturday. "He was in the middle of it, too, remember. And he knows the real truth behind it all..." Nathan trailed off, his expression gone bleak again.
"I forget, sometimes, that he was - he showed up after... While I was out." Seeing his expression, she slipped her hand into his, giving it a squeeze. "I don't blame you for what happened," she said quietly. "Not even after what I said the other day."
Nathan winced, the tightness in his chest suddenly overwhelming again. "Please don't tell me that," he whispered, trying to keep the pain out of his voice. "Focus on your speech, okay? That's what's important. Making something good out of this."
"Or tryin' any way. I don't have any illusions that 'm gunna change anyone's mind, Nate. But... if they just think about it, even for a few minutes... That'll make it worth it." She bit her lip, hating to see him in so much pain, hating that she'd caused it. She kept doing that to him. But before she could say anything more, there was a knock on the door, and an accompanying familiar presence on the link. "Manuel's here," she said, squeezing Nathan's hand again. "Come t' take me down. Guess that waitin' time's just about done."
Nathan rose, hugging her tightly as she got up too. "Knock 'em dead," he told her quietly. "I'll be watching from here. I promise."
"Think happy thoughts at me?" she asked almost plaintively, the nerves rising again. "Well, not happy thoughts, but nice, calm, not-panickin' an' runnin' away ones?"
"You bet." He drew back just enough to kiss her on the forehead. "I'll see you when you get back."
He wouldn't blame Amanda if she shut the door in his face when she saw who it was, if for no other reason than to keep him from infecting her with his nerves. She was nervous enough; he had sensed that from the third floor. Nathan sighed harshly, rubbing his hands over his face in a helpless nervous mannerism and then knocked on the door. There were things he couldn't do anything about, yes, but this wasn't one of them. Even if he screwed it up hopelessly, he had to try.
Amanda had been trying - unsuccessfully - to meditate, since she was going from mere 'nervous' to 'panic', and without his powers, Manuel couldn't take the edge off it. And she was being good and not going for the other usual method of taking a few swigs from the dusty vodka bottle stashed behind the bottom drawer of her desk. The knock on the door was a welcome distraction, truth be told - she bounced up from her position on the floor and opened it, frowning a little as she saw who it was. "Hey," she said with a sigh. "I'm still goin', Nate. I'm sorry, but 'm not changin' me mind."
She thought he was here to talk her out of it. Absurdly, what that provoked was laughter, exhausted laughter with only the faintest edge of hysteria to it. Amanda gazed up at him, her eyes widening a little, but before she could say anything, Nathan stepped in and caught her in a fierce hug, ignoring the squeak. "Gray hair," he said, his voice breaking as he held onto her tightly. "Lots and lots of gray hair… I'll have to start buying dye and charging you." Okay. Sounding a little more than slightly hysterical now. Something a little more productive, that was what was called for...
"I'll watch." His throat tried to close, but he forced the rest of the words out. "Up in the suite, maybe, so I can be by myself. But I'll watch. So you know I'm there, even if I'm not right there..." He squeezed his eyes shut, his breath catching in his chest. "I'm sorry," he whispered. "I'm so proud of you."
That was all she'd needed to hear - longed to hear, really. She knew he wouldn't have been able to go with her, knew it was too hard, and too dangerous, given his face had been all over the television for the past week... But she'd needed to know she was doing the right thing. So often she wasn't, and all she'd wanted to know was that he understood why. Ignoring the need for air and the sudden urge to burst into relieved tears, Amanda hugged him back every bit as tightly. "Thank you," she managed. "Thank you Nate, I don't wanna make you worry, but this is important an' I hope I make you proud, I really do. Owe you for all that grey hair, all that trouble..." Okay, Nathan wasn't the only one sounding borderline hysterical. "'M scared," she admitted in a small voice. "What if they laugh or somethin'? Or I get up there an' I forget what I'm s'posed t' say?"
"If they laugh..." He coughed to clear his throat, easing his grip on her a bit. Not too much, though. "If they laugh, look them right in the eyes and smile at them. Anyone who laughs wasn't there, Amanda. If you forget what you're going to say..." He laughed a little weakly. "One of my teachers at law school used to say that when it comes straight from the heart, it doesn't matter if it's improvised. As long as you have the passion to compensate."
"I'll try." She didn't look up at him quite yet, being busy trying to get her expression back under control. Damn, she'd have to re-do her make-up if she didn't want to look like a panda. "I've got t' be bleedin' mental t' be doin' this, Nate. I've never given a speech in me life. Fuck, I couldn't even spell the word when I came here. An' these are all uni types, an' they're all gunna be starin' at me." She gave a shaky laugh. "Think there's time for me t' do the invisibility spell an' do it that way?"
"You're going to be fine," he said hoarsely. He pulled back a bit, but only far enough so that he could take her face between his hands and make her look up at him. "This is hard, and scary, yeah, but it's nowhere near what you had to do that day. Or what you did at the art exhibit."
Fair enough. Except there hadn't been time to think then, she'd just reacted, done what needed to be done. But then again, this needed doing, too. "I'm usin' the TK spell," she said, taking a steadying breath. "T' show 'em. Strange said the magic'd be too confusin', an' that's what I'm best at, with what yer've been teachin' me an' all." It was a small tribute to him as well, but she didn't say that.
"It's a good choice," Nathan said with a weak smile. "Logical, and all..." He took a deep, shaky breath, his eyes going to the clock on the wall. "When do you have to leave?"
Her eyes followed his. "'Bout an hour," she said, the butterflies in her stomach staging another invasion wave as she realised time was indeed drawing on. "McCoy's drivin' those of us that're goin' in the van, an' Strange is meetin' us there." A brief affectionate smile crossed her face. "Manuel's comin' as well, even tho' he doesn't remember anythin' 'bout that day an' he isn't in HeliX yet. Said he wanted t' be my moral support."
"Do you want me to stay? Until it's time to head downstairs?" Nathan managed a very faint laugh. "Or if you need some alone-time, I can go..."
"Stay?" It came out even before Nathan had finished speaking, and she blushed a little at how desperate that sounded. "I've had enough alone-time. I'll be climbin' the walls if I don't have some distraction."
He nodded. "I could... I could teach you some of the voice exercises I learned in law school?" he offered awkwardly. "They're good for warming your voice up, if you've got to speak. I know you'll be on a mic, but..."
"Please. Every little bit helps, an' I'll be havin' t' fuck around with the accent any way so people get what I'm sayin'..." She gave him a mock-stern look. "You Yanks need more international telly."
"Wait'll you get a load of the exercises," Nathan bantered back a bit weakly. "These are not things you want to do in public, unless you want to make an idiot out of yourself..."
Amanda grinned wryly. "Well, if I'm gunna do it any way, might as well go the whole hog. Maybe I'll convince 'em mutants're too weird t' be scary?"
"We can live in hope," Nathan said with an edgy laugh, going over and
sitting down on her couch. Well, collapsing, really. He hadn't realized just how much energy this would take it. "I need a nap," he said, only half-jokingly.
"You always need a nap," she told him, curling up beside him and leaning her head on his shoulder. She knew he probably hadn't been sleeping lately - neither had she, really. "How's the baby doin'?" she asked, shamelessly using the guaranteed Happy Topic to distract him. "Moira gettin' any weird cravin's yet?"
"Anna - you remember Moira's cousin, right? - claimed when I talked to them last night that she was eating haggis and ice cream. At the same time." He sighed. "Wish she were here," he muttered wistfully. "But she can't leave Muir just yet." A hollow little laugh slipped out before he could stop it. "Not all that different from six months ago. She got pulled away to Iceland the day after, I remember..."
"Haggis is a weird cravin' all on its own," Amanda said, stroking his arm absently. The nerves needed an outlet and it was better than biting her nails down to the quick again. "Rom said somethin' 'bout Iceland. She said if I hadn't been so hurt, you'd have had t' tie me down, there was that much power involved. Figures, considerin' who it was." She patted his arm again. "She'll be back soon, an' then you can go an' do all that spoony cooin' an' cuddlin' that you old people aren't s'posed t' do an' shock all us kids."
"Seems like so long ago," Nathan said after a moment, almost distantly. "You did your 'been here for a year' post - it won't be long until I get to do mine."
"Mm-hmm." Amanda paused, thinking over that year, and then grinned, suddenly, wickedly - in that moment she looked a lot like Domino. "Gunna go for the makeover?" she asked, almost-innocently. "I could dye yer hair."
"I came by my gray hair honestly," Nathan said automatically, in almost the same tone he would have used with Dom. "I'll keep them, thanks. As for the makeover... I'm not awash with ideas here, trouble."
"I dunno, we could get you an earring, like Doug's..." she pointed out. "Yer'd look all dangerous an' secret agent-ly with an' earring an' that black leather jacket." The grin grew positively evil. "Or a tattoo. One of those Askani patterns you keep drawin' in the margins of me papers when me handwritin's been givin' you trouble."
"Moira would have a small heartattack," Nathan said, pondering the image. "I'm not the earring type. And tattoos are identifying marks... not that I don't have enough identifying scars, though, I suppose. Huh." He shook his head at her, smiling tiredly. "You've actually got me thinking about this, brat."
"No heart attacks for the pregnant lady," Amanda agreed. "An' that's what I'm here for, isn't it? T' distract you with scary body art ideas? Tho' I reckon the tattoo idea would be a good one. One of the Askani patterns, 'round yer arm maybe..." She ran her finger along his bicep, to illustrate. "Those have meanings, don't they? The patterns? They look like they ought, from a magic sense, any way."
"They do. I'd have to think about it." He chuckled very quietly. "And, you know, wait until I'm not black and blue all over. The bruises on my bruises have bruises, this week."
"Makes it kind of hard t' tell what'd look like," Amanda said, fingers tapping out a nervous tattoo on her thigh and her foot waggling. "I hate waitin'," she said abruptly. "Wish it was over an' done with already."
"This is the worst part," he reassured her softly. "Once you get there, it'll go by faster than you can imagine."
"Not if I stand there an' can't think of a thing t' say..." No, not going back to that train of thought, that way lead nerves and panicking and possible hiding. "Strange said he'd use magic, if anythin' happened. Out in front of every body an' all. 'S a big thing, for him - he's so far in the magic closet he's practically in Narnia."
"I think it's as important for him to be there, and be there for you," Nathan said, thinking about that conversation on Saturday. "He was in the middle of it, too, remember. And he knows the real truth behind it all..." Nathan trailed off, his expression gone bleak again.
"I forget, sometimes, that he was - he showed up after... While I was out." Seeing his expression, she slipped her hand into his, giving it a squeeze. "I don't blame you for what happened," she said quietly. "Not even after what I said the other day."
Nathan winced, the tightness in his chest suddenly overwhelming again. "Please don't tell me that," he whispered, trying to keep the pain out of his voice. "Focus on your speech, okay? That's what's important. Making something good out of this."
"Or tryin' any way. I don't have any illusions that 'm gunna change anyone's mind, Nate. But... if they just think about it, even for a few minutes... That'll make it worth it." She bit her lip, hating to see him in so much pain, hating that she'd caused it. She kept doing that to him. But before she could say anything more, there was a knock on the door, and an accompanying familiar presence on the link. "Manuel's here," she said, squeezing Nathan's hand again. "Come t' take me down. Guess that waitin' time's just about done."
Nathan rose, hugging her tightly as she got up too. "Knock 'em dead," he told her quietly. "I'll be watching from here. I promise."
"Think happy thoughts at me?" she asked almost plaintively, the nerves rising again. "Well, not happy thoughts, but nice, calm, not-panickin' an' runnin' away ones?"
"You bet." He drew back just enough to kiss her on the forehead. "I'll see you when you get back."